


Take Me Away

by MoriartysToyBoy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Depression, Insomnia, NOT Johnlock, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 05:04:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5362439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoriartysToyBoy/pseuds/MoriartysToyBoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Insomnia, the cause of 3am wind blowing through greasy hair, collar pulled up high and a cigarette resting between shaking fingers. A head that was too busy to sleep, full of thoughts and internal battles that would never be voiced or shared. Eyes watering in a futile attempt to cry. Through all of this mess one thing stood clear : Take me away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me Away

Insomnia, the cause of 3am wind blowing through greasy hair, collar pulled up high and a cigarette resting between shaking fingers. A head that was too busy to sleep, full of thoughts and internal battles that would never be voiced or shared. Eyes watering in a futile attempt to cry. Through all of this mess one thing stood clear : Take me away.

A cigarette can hold meaning depending on the reason it is placed between a set of lips: a smoke over a catch up with one's brother; a way to settle the mind after a particularly straining case however more and more frequently the smoke filled lungs was a way to distract. Distraction was proving to be a saviour and the nicotine induced rushes were a very effective way to clear and addled brain. 

The raging thoughts is why these distractions were required. Family, friends, work were all necessary to keep going, yet all were awfully draining. People were complex, all demanding something yet what they wanted was never known for sure. Relationships were a wave of tangled strings, sometimes loose however tension could be applied at any moment and leave you fumbling in an attempt to untangle the mess that had been created. 

Friends: something we all search for whilst actively convincing ourselves we don’t need. The affection received is something we all desire, the warm embrace of knowing you’re needed sometimes able to drag you out of the darkest times. However for someone who has no grasp of how people work, that embrace can turn into a held hand, which then in turn can transform into something our fingertips can barely reach. 

John Watson, dear old John Watson. Without him there would be nothing. Simple minded yet so observant, able to pick away at your very being and still you can hold him in nothing but great affection. He always tries to help in any way he can, hiding the box of cigarettes that now sat in a coat pocket, cups of tea in the morning, every morning, even though the mugs were never touched. Providing that sense of humanity when dealing with clients, something that had saved lives over the mess of these years. Friends? No. But everyone needed their own John Watson. 

The wind grew louder, cigarette now burnt to the butt yet his hand still shook. His head was still busy, his hair still greasy and the glossy view of watered eyes still remained. Friends, nicotine, cases. Even with all of this, Sherlock still wished someone would take him away.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it was short. And sorry for the some what depressing nature. I just needed to get something written down as a distraction.


End file.
